Cracks appeared in Valek’s calm demeanor. Funny how being threatened by a butcher knife hadn’t affected him at all, yet his father’s words had the same effect as a blow to his head, followed by a punch to his solar plexus, leaving him dazed and unable to suck in a proper breath.
“Assassins learn to shut off their emotions,” Valek finally said.
“That’s bullshit. If that was the case, then you wouldn’t let the twins stay overnight, you wouldn’t be here by your brothers’ graves, you wouldn’t have a heart mate. Should I go on?”
“No. You’ve made your point.”
“Then what’s the answer to my question? Would you have returned?”
He hadn’t planned to, but with marrying Yelena, and the baby... “I don’t know.”
“Fair enough. Now come on inside.”
“I... Mother would get upset. I’d ruin her time with the twins.”
“Put that intuitive sense to work, boy. How would you feel in her place? It’s a lot to take in, and she’s not going to see them again—”
“Why not? You can visit them during the hot season when the Keep’s on break.”
His father jerked straight. “But they’ll be in Sitia. We can’t...”
“You can if I help you. In fact, Sitia has tanneries, too. If you want to live there, I can arrange that, as well.”
“You can?”
“I can.” Even if he no longer worked for the Commander.
He gazed at Valek for a few heartbeats. “I’ll think about it.”
“When you decide, just tell Patxi. He’ll get word to me.”
Valek’s father returned to the house. Movement seemed the best cure for his...confusion. Valek retrieved his pack from Onyx’s saddle and built a small fire near his brothers’ graves. It might be morbid, but to him it was comforting. The horses moved closer to the heat.
He boiled water and sorted through the travel rations, ensuring there would be enough to last. The crunch of footsteps sounded to his left. Valek jumped to his feet, knife in hand.
“Easy,” Zethan said. “Just bringing you supper.”
Valek slid the weapon back into its sheath as the young man stepped into the ring of firelight. Zethan handed him a fork and a plate with two slices of roast beef and a pile of mashed potatoes, all covered with a dark brown gravy. The smell alone was intoxicating.
“Did you draw the short straw?”
Zethan laughed. “No, I volunteered.”
“Thanks.” Valek sat next to the fire.
“I didn’t bring you a knife to cut the meat, ’cause I figured you already have about ten of your own.”
“At least.” Valek smiled.
Zethan took that as an invitation to sit down. “Mother’s coming around to the idea of us leaving. Although Zohav doesn’t believe you have the authority to let them come visit us.”
Zohav’s comment wasn’t a surprise. “Consider it one of the perks of my job.”
The teen pulled a half-burned twig from the fire. He sketched designs into the dirt with it. “What’s it like at the Magician’s Keep?”
Between bites of the smoky beef, Valek explained the five-year student curriculum. “You probably won’t have to start at the beginning, but I’d guess you’d be there two or three years.”
Valek answered a bunch of Zethan’s questions before Zebulon arrived with a piece of apple pie.
“Zee, Father wants to talk to you and Zo alone,” Zebulon said. “I expect you’ll get the same lecture that you got when you left for the coast. Plus, a bonus warning not to get captured by pirates,” he teased.
“You mean we weren’t supposed to get captured? Why didn’t he tell us that before?” Zethan brushed dirt from his pants before heading to the house.
Zebulon handed Valek the pie. “Mother said you can sleep in the house.”
“Thanks, but I have my bedroll and I’m used to sleeping on the ground.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Then he sat on the other side of the fire. He poked at the wood with a twig. Sparks shot into the sky.
Valek waited while Zebulon worked up the nerve to ask the questions he held inside. He studied his...brother—still a difficult concept to accept. Around nineteen years old, Zebulon’s personality appeared to be a mix of the twins, cautious like Zohav, but with a bit of a sense of humor like Zethan. Valek wondered if he had Vincent’s mischievous streak. Perhaps when the man relaxed, his true personality would show. Would any of them ever relax around Valek, the King Killer? He doubted it.
“What you mentioned to Father about moving south, does that apply to me, as well?”
“Of course.”
“What if we decide to stay here? Can we still visit the twins?”
“Yes.”